


Her Sweet Weight Upon My Heart a Night

by Somedeepmystery



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Commitment, F/M, Fluff, Intimacy, Nakedness, Post-Coital, allusions to blowjobs, love and junk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somedeepmystery/pseuds/Somedeepmystery
Summary: Illya commits to the weight of his love for her...





	Her Sweet Weight Upon My Heart a Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Turningleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turningleaf/gifts).



> Dearest Turningleaf,
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  
> You have been so kind, so welcoming, making me feel more and more a part of this wonderful fandom and I'm really so very glad we started talking. I hope you have an awesome day and enjoy these little gifts. They are trash, but I send them with love. :p
> 
> Title from and Emily Dickinson poem. Beta by the amazing diadema and the talented Festiveviolet31. Huge thanks to them and to MilkShakeKate for inviting me to his party!

Gaby’s body is a sweet warm weight on his chest. Illya wonders at the circumstances that have led to this, how he, of all people gets to be here, her substitute bed.

Her head is tucked neatly beneath his chin, her hair a fragrant mass that tickles his lips and catches in his stubble. Her arms rest over his shoulders, her hips on his, her legs between his thighs and even though, not long ago, they were making love, he’s not sure where to put his hands.

She sighs and shifts, murmuring against his skin and his body takes notice, responding to all that naked flesh touching all of his. Hers tawny, his pale and pinkish.

After a moment, she wakes. He can sense it in her. A tensing, a change in breathing. She pushes up and looks down into his face.

“Sorry,” she says. “I made you my pillow.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “Is no problem. I will be your pillow anytime.”

She looks back at him, sober, thoughtful. “Promise?”

He realizes, almost without wanting to, what she is asking and he realizes too that it is more than the weight of her on his chest. It’s the weight of her on his heart.  _ Her _ heart, in  _ his _ hands. His allegiances have long since shifted entirely in her favor—she is only pressing him to make the vow aloud.

“Promise.” Solemn, solid, unwavering.

She takes it, absorbs it, acknowledging all that it is, all that it means. Then she cocks an eyebrow at him. “Good,” she smiles and starts sliding down his body. The sensation of it is nothing short of sublime. “Then all I need to do is deal with this sudden stiffness happening down here. Can’t have a lumpy pillow.”

“Gaby,” he starts a denial, reaching for her, but her mouth closing over him cuts off all his protests. She sends him off into an oblivion of pleasure, her weight on his thighs his only anchor.


End file.
